Dr Crane and Mr Joker
by WitchyWanda
Summary: The good doctor loved finding out everyone's worst fear. The Joker would NOT be an exception. Joker/Crane. Rating will probably go up..
1. Chapter 1

**Hiiii guys. (8 **Been awhile, but I got somethin' special for all the Joker AND Dr. Jonathan Crane fans. I've been itching to get this up forever, buuut also very, very picky. Especially with this first chapter. -sigh- Oh well. I couldn't keep this under wraps forever! So here it is. FIRST of all, though.. I'd like to make it clear that this IS going to be mildly.. slashy at some point. Mainly with Joker and Crane, with hints of Joker & Batman here and there because Joker & Batman paired up ARE practically cannon. YES IT IS. BUT.. I also believe that if Crane ever DID meet Joker.. there WOULD be some sparks. I think Joker is twisted enough to woo the good doctor over. Or.. at least make him act a little... fanboyish. Heh. If you don't see these characters in that way? Tough.** I've put up with the big dump of OCs I've seen around here lately, so you can put up with a little GAYNESS, okay? OKAY.**

**Well.. with that out of the way.. please enjoy.**

**(And please, if you're going to review, give me more to look at, if you know what I mean, besides "PLZ UPDATE PLZ CONTINUE". Would you like it if I gave YOUR stories those kinds of reviews? I don't think so. )**

**These characters belong to DC. I own nothing.**

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**8)**

Jonathan Crane always knew that _everyone _had a worst fear. Something that just made them freeze up like mannequins, only with a heart beat that would race up to speeds beyond healthy.

Their bodies would begin to expel sweat and tremors. Well, actually, not every single person had the same exact reaction. Sure, _some_ were obvious and average. You just knew it would happen. But there were _others_ that had quirky little reactions that were definitely worth logging away.

Yes, Jonathan _did_ literally log _all_ the reactions away.

Is there a problem with that?

_Any_ways. So, these.. different reactions always amused him to no end.

For example, one simple fear one patient had had was cockroaches. Pretty harmless, yes? Jonathan proceeded to find one. Just one. Measly. Cockroach. When revealing said insect to said patient, the man instantly screamed in a pitch higher than Crane thought was possible for any male after puberty, pissed in his bright orange uniformed pants, bolted for the locked cell door, and proceeded to scratch at it until his nails were practically destroyed and fingers bled from the damage.

Now, if those weren't good enough reasons to log reactions away, the patient's brilliant act of fainting from overload of adrenaline and fear seemed like a good enough reason.

Yes, those rare cases were what the good doctor _thrived_ on. And he looked forward to receiving more and more of them in the next few years.

Even if he was now working in the Narrows.

He still loved his job.

And being fired was most certainly _not_ going to stop him from doing it.

So, with the help of the left-over men that Ra's Al Ghul left behind- since they obviously had no where _else _to go, and Dr. Crane and Scarecrow's unusual leadership skills had them hooked -Crane put together a little plan to sneak a few patients out of Arkham so _he _could work on them himself.

It was just way too easy. Those trained ninja warriors slipped through Arkham like they owned the place, and soon the good doctor was the owner of his own little make-shift asylum in an abandoned apartment complex.

The patients were, of course, easy cases to crack for the expert psychologist, and he soon became bored of their growing predictability that ended in them getting gassed to _death_, twitching on the floors of the small cold rooms until they stopped moving all together and Crane ordered the men to get rid of them.

He never questioned where the bodies ended up either. Why bother? After the many deaths over the past three years since Crane's evolution into a criminal became known and more and more criminals began to pop up in Gotham City, it wasn't that big a deal for bodies to be discovered in dumpsters or in people's cars, rotting away with flies circling.

Not even if the corpses were mental patients, because _lately _more and more of said types of individuals had gotten loose by unknown means, and the catch?

Crane and his men weren't the only one's setting these patients loose.

Over the past _two _years as Crane made a name for himself in the Narrows, a force began to grow..

A force that even the biggest mobsters in town discovered they did _not _want to mess with.

But apparently their opinions hadn't meant squat to this force. They were all taken out. One by one.

And every day that a new mob leader fell, Crane took note on it and logged _it _away for future purposes, too.

One day, he promised himself (and Scarecrow), these notes on this new force in Gotham would pay off more than all of the patients he'd worked on combined.

And it did too.

Early last year, Crane _finally _caught up with the news that this powerful force had _finally _been caught and brought into Arkham Asylum. Of course, Crane was slightly taken aback when he discovered the _other _force, known as the BAT Man, had been the one to capture this one.

But no, he couldn't have.. not after the chaotic force known only as the Joker had ripped apart the criminal underworld as if it had all just been his little playground!

He'd even taken care of that.. that _bitch _of a woman, Rachel Dawes!

And let's not get started on Jonathan's reaction to discovering what happened to Gotham's _dashing _"White Knight" and district attorney.

He'd gotten all of the warriors staring at him as he'd _laughed _himself to tears.

How does one even SURVIVE with half of their face barbequed, anyways?

Yes, _this_ had indeed been the highlight of Crane's nights in his shabby make-shift madhouse, learning more and more of Gotham's downfall.. to one. Single. Person. In clown getup, no less.. It felt like finally there WAS hope for some kind of deity up there.. making life better for him despite his circumstances.

And then he learned that the madman had.. _LET _himself be caught by Batman and thrown into Arkham without trying to kill anyone in the courtroom as he was sentenced, nor the staff of Arkham as he was brought in.

And it was like Bat Man had kicked him square in the face.

Why?

WHY?

Why, why, why, why _WHY _would such a beautiful chaotic force just DO THIS?

After a whole day of doing nothing but moping and thinking of this news, Crane turned to his notes he'd been making on the clown so far.

Was there anything logical in what had happened? Was there some kind of secret plan being formed in the clown's head that he could never figure out?

Again and again he asked these questions for days, not doing much else.. Why bother? The hope and joy he'd been experiencing for so long now was slowly diminishing back into gloom.

And he had no idea where to go from here.

Back to sneaking out patients, he supposed..

Until Scarecrow suddenly snapped to the front of his brain and roared.

"_HELLO? THIS IS YOUR CHANCE, JONATHAN! GET THE CLOWN!_"

Jonathan sometimes was glad he _was _a schizophrenic for this very reason.

So, without any "buts" or "what ifs", he ran to his men- who stayed on another floor of the building and minded their own business when they weren't doing his dirty work -and explained the situation briefly and to the point.

"The Joker is our only priority now. I want him as _my_ patient. I'm sure at this point I do not need to explain that to you gentlemen.. So, do whatever it takes to get into Arkham, get to the Joker's location, get him out, and bring him here. Likely, you'll need to sedate him as well to do all this. He is a very strong, violent… man." He almost found himself saying _creature_, but quickly avoided it.

"But I have no doubts that, as warriors of the late Ra's, you will come through for me without a hitch."

The men glanced at each other, but their faces were blank.

Unknown to Jonathan Crane, their work was not usually fueled by _his _leadership, but by the other one…

Who just happened to come out at that time, taking off Jonathan's glasses and glowering at all of them individually with those haunting cold eyes.

"_I assume you do not wish to have the same fate as your master, yes_?" He smiled, baring all of Jonny's teeth in a very sarcastic smile. And then suddenly made an 'oh' with his mouth in mockery of realization. "_Do you even know _how _your leader met his demise_? _Oh, it's a funny story, really.. Ra's and the Bat fought in the old subway system, and as it was ready to crash, the so-called "hero" fled, leaving your beloved leader to die_!"

Scarecrow giggled delightfully at the draining color in these men's faces. Men that had trained for years with Ra's to destroy cities like Gotham.

"_And die he did. So, you are left with _me _now, whether you like it or not. And I had assumed that you _did _like it, because you've fulfilled all of my requests so far.. whatever could be stopping you this time_?"

It seemed the men were all in agreement. Their faces hardened to emotionless masks (even more so than usual), and they darted off into the night.

Crane slowly slumped into a chair near by and rubbed his temples.

"One day they won't even believe _your _threats." He grumbled.

The Scarecrow didn't answer. He didn't believe he'd need to. After all, if Crane wanted that clown bad enough, he really shouldn't be complaining.

Hours later, the small group of ninja warriors appeared once again.

And Crane leapt to his feet at the sight of the clown, in an Arkham Asylum patient uniform no-less, limp as a rag doll in the arms of two of the men.

He quickly escorted them into one of the rooms he'd set up for his most dangerous patients, and urged them to strap the Joker down into the gurney there in the middle.

Jonathan kept his eyes locked on the clown, only to make sure he was truly still sedated and not waking up any second.

When the final straps were tightly in place, Crane shooed the men out. This one was going to be handled all alone. All his. No one else would steal this opportunity away from him. This _patient _away from him.

Dr. Jonathan Crane had the Joker. THE JOKER!

He decided to use the rest of this heavenly moment to sit down near by and just.. observe him while he was out.

The unconscious man was surprisingly tan-skinned for someone who wore not only so many layers of clothes when he was free, but layers of make up as well. But the people of Arkham had somehow managed to get rid all of that and make his face look like it'd never worn a _speck _of paint ever in this fellow's young adult life.

And no, that _wasn't _over-exaggerating. From Crane's close observations ("close" as in he kept leaning in more and more the longer he stared), the man barely looked halfway through his 20's.

And wait- What in the _world _were those little-

Oh. Freckles.

The Joker had _freckles_.

With such a tan skin tone, they were easily missed. But leaning in closer (until surely his _breath _was hitting the other man's face), one could see the tiny dots littering the man's nose and near his eyes.

Speaking of his eyes, Crane also observed that his skin turned even darker on and around the eyelids. And on the lower eyelids were deep wrinkles.

Ah, perhaps signs of insomnia? Jonathan could see that.

Lord only knew if this man got in even half a night's worth of sleep when he was loose on the town.

But locked away in Arkham, maybe he got a chance to catch up on some beauty sleep?

Well, that didn't matter anymore. The Joker was sleeping for the moment, but it wouldn't last very long.

Soon he'd awaken and discover he was no longer in his cell in Arkham, but he also wasn't anywhere where he would be able to just get up and go.

At least not _yet_.

As stated in the beginning, Jonathan just _knew _that _EVERYONE _had a worst fear. Whether due to traumatic experiences in the past, or just a basic human instinct to fear something unknown and alien to them. Something that disturbed them greatly.

And the good doctor _loved _finding out _everyone's _worst fear.

The Joker would not be an exception.

Crane didn't give a shit that all his quirky little adventures in Gotham (was the one about the pencil really true?) suggested the man was to be feared, to be considered as _monstrous _as the devil himself (if you believe in such a thing, that is). And that _clearly _he was.. "immune" to anything and everything you tried throwing his way.

Peh. All Jonathan saw was a man who was masochistic in every sense of the word. Why, if you looked up masochism in a dictionary in Gotham, you'd get a picture of the Joker!

Okay, maybe not, but you get the idea.

The man got his rocks off on being beaten to a bloody pulp. End of story.

_But_, that's just the thing.

What Dr. Jonathan Crane did here did not at _all _involve beating his patients up. Not even a little. Everything he did with his patients was mental.

Now, how was a hardcore masochist like this going to deal with being strapped down tight, stripped of his big bad ego- like he'd been stripped of his lovely _costume_ -by the doctor simply peeling away at his layers through observations.

Oh, and also _fear gassed _to let all those hidden demons of the past come to life.

Oh, how Crane couldn't wait to get started.

It wouldn't be long now, so he settled into his seat next to the man in the gurney and waited with his fresh new notebook in his lap, pen poised between his fingers, and a canister of fear gas up his sleeve.

Ice cold, calculated eyes focused on those pale pink lips, only briefly, but long enough to note the darker pink scars leading away from the mouth and curling up into the cheeks were.. sort of beautiful in an abstract sort of way.

And then.. the patient stirred.

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**Please tell me what you THINK! And maybe I needs me a beta... Hmm...**


	2. Chapter 2

**AND **another one for you. I'm working on the third chapter right now. Sort of multitasking. But.. you get the idea!

_This one _though is my favorite out of all three chapters so far. I'm very proud of it and giggly over it and I hope you all like it too. Especially those Dr. Crane lovers out there. ;D

So please enjoy and gimme a good review to INSPIRE me to do more like this!

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**8)**

Well, _this_ was unexpected.

No, no, he could see himself actually getting _kidnapped_ from Arkham and brought somewhere else. That wasn't one of the unexpected things.

In fact, he was surprised groups like the military or the FBI or even the MIB hadn't come to take him away to their super secret headquarters to do _crazy_ experiments on him and/or train him to be one of their own.

He also _wasn't_ surprised he was strapped down up to his shoulders on a _gurney_.

After surviving his little.. "social experiments" while he'd been free to roam in Gotham, people had smartened up about _people like_ _him_. Kind of like he was some kinda rare species of _animal_ humanity had just discovered and- after watching it interact with the things and _other_ creatures around it -humanity began to set a _game plan_ for how to deal with him.

He mentally giggled. As if there'd _ever_ be another "creature" of his "species" spawning. Doubtful. Very, very doubtful.

"Are you fully awake?" That familiar voice was back again. The smooth, nearly monotone voice had been the first sound he'd heard when he first came to. Being very a_cute_ automatically helped Joker _backtrack _and listen to the voice over again in his mind's memory. From what he gathered, the voice had asked something similar to what it was asking _now_, just not all in the same _words_.

Well, thinking more on the subject though, now that he _was _awake and _could _hear the voice (probably male, but not very deep; smooth) it seemed to sound so..so.. expectant, so ready to talk to him, the Joker, as if he were just another human being; captured by some revenge-driven or power-hungry fool, or just some person who had chosen him _randomly _out of all the other Arkham inmates just to get his fill of torturing mental patients.

_Nah_.

They _knew_ who he was. They had _wanted_ to capture him; to hold him hostage. No one else.

Oh, and also, just by the tone of voice, Joker could tell this person also had that rare mindset he'd only stumbled upon a _few_ times where the person just.. didn't seem to have the _time_, no matter the situation.

He him_self _had done it many times to intimidate others in a unique way. To show whoever was threatening HIM that, well…. He just didn't have time for their bullshit.

But _this _guy here, with the way _he_ sounded, it seemed he _never _had time for _anything_. Not a chance to catch up with the news, or a chance to grab a quick drink or bite to eat, or even time to just sit and _listen _to someone tell him how their day went. Nope. He was _obviously_ a very busy, busy guy.

Didn't even have much time to sit here, from what Joker could see as he finally opened his eyes, and talk to him about the situation and his current uh.. predicament.

SO, he didn't have time nor patience to chat with his own hostage, huh?

Perhaps, _as_ said hostage, he should address his concerns for that.

"I'm awake as I'll _ever_ be." He realized the instant he opened his mouth to speak that his whole mouth and his lips were dry. He was used to his lips being dry, though. They didn't freely allow liquids any time you wanted them in Arkham, after all. "That all right with you?"

The man sitting down was beginning to become detailed as the fuzzyness went gradually away. He had on a simple dark grey (or blue?) business suit. Only, what was that under the jacket? Not a shirt.. Not a vest; there were no buttons in the middle.

"_Sweater vest_?" Joker croaked questioningly, "Those.. those things still _exist_?"

The man still hadn't answered his first question, but even Joker knew it was entirely his fault for that one. Once his brain latches onto peculiar things; little details he notices, he can't _help _but question them outright.

"Yes, of course." The smooth voice replied. Only a hint of a stammer in the beginning. "They're still in use by many types of people, believe it or not. Now, since you're-"

"Yeah, still being used by old _fog_ies, college nerds and pro_fess_ors." Joker snapped back, now able to clearly see the outline of glasses on the pale face of this man.

And, strangely enough, he was also starting to feel more and more like he should _know _this guy, even if he _knew_ they'd never met before in person. If they had, the man wouldn't be _here_ now, sitting casually beside a gurney that held a strapped-down tight Clown Prince. He'd likely be a cold body or a rotting corpse (depending on how long ago they'd met) lying there with either a bullet in the forehead, or a savage, bloody grin across his face.

_Or_, if he'd been feeling extra vicious at the time, both.

"I _was _a professor." The man suddenly stated. "And then I became a psychiatrist at Arkham asylum," as he went on, and became more in focus, Joker could see that the doctor was smirking now as he was finally able to explain and introduce who he was. "And _then _I was fired for hiding illegal toxic substances in the basement of the asylum, right under their noses, and using said toxic substances on my patients."

"_And _you also secretly helped the League of Shadows with their _crazy _plan to destroy Gotham." Joker added as his memory finally recovered and unfolded the truth.

In his early days in Gotham, hiding under cover while he plotted his big debut, he'd kept his eyes and ears peeled and glued to all forms of news on this sudden appearance of a strange and dangerous chemical being created in Arkham for so long, and tested on the asylum's very own patients, and then let loose on Gotham later.

So, back then, his plan had been to get a sample of this chemical himself. Not to use in the same way, of course (he was _no_t a copycat), but to just see out of wild curiosity what was so different and dangerous about it that it was deemed "Fear Toxin"?

But then the plan was totally flipped over on its back like his semi truck when he discovered that the League of Shadows, the Fear Toxin, and it's creator Dr. Crane a.k.a the Scarecrow were all defeated in _one _night by just _one _person.

The Goddamn Batman.

"Jonathan Crane, top psychologist at Arkham and creator of the deadly chemical compound that almost.. _almos_t brought Gotham to its knees." The Joker lifted his head as best he could and let his dry mouth stretch and pull up to create a big grin for the man sitting calmly across the way.

The man looked a tad rigid, though. Just a tad. The smirk Joker had seen minutes ago through the fog gone now; withered away with Joker's words.

He was _so _obviously waiting for the punch-line, for the Clown Prince to finish his recounter of those events with the _tip_ of the ice burg that would bring back Crane's _obviously_ unwanted memories of his failure that night, and how it came so _soon_, and in such an.. embarrassing way.

But Joker just kept grinning as he nodded his head towards the good doctor in a universal symbol of acknowledgment to.. an equal? "I'd shake your hand if I could, but ah.. Well, _any_ways, it's an honor to finally meet you, Dr. Crane."

Jonathan tipped his head slightly like a bird at that. Joker could almost _literally _see the gears a' turnin' in that sharp head of his. Words like "honor", "finally" and acknowledging straight off that he was _indeed _still a doctor had hit home. Perhaps _now _the man would reconsider acting the way he did a few minutes ago, _as _if _he hadn't the _time _for the _Joker, _when _clearly now _Crane realized that the clown was actually going to treat _him _with the _respect_ he TRULY deserved._

_THIS_ was what was so _un_expected for the Joker. Not that he was being held hostage (or _whatever _Crane considered this) by ol' Jonny Crane. Nope. This was just _typical _behavior for someone like him. To want to _steal _away such a _rare _find and possibly even experiment on him or something.

_No_, _no_.

The _only _thingthat was _truly_ unexpected about this whole situation, from Joker's point of view, was just how_ goddamn _EASYthis was going to be.

It seemed _every time _he got caught and was trapped, the way to escape just became easier and easier and EASIER to discover!

There _must _be something difficult about this. Hmm.. Restraints? No. In good time, _Ichabod_ here will take them off manually. What about fleeing and finding all his stuff, like his knives and clothes? Nope, that'd be _just_ as easy! All it'd take was time_, _a false sense of loyalty and respect, and- Oh, yes! Let's not forget that _wonderful _thing called "trust" that everyone thought they had with everyone else and their _mother_.

Like Commissioner Gordon and his men at the GCPD for example.

Once upon a time, they _were _all his. But then, hard times hit Gotham. People started dying left and right, dropping like flies. People started getting _scared _and losing _faith _in what they once thought was a trusted system of _brave _and _strong _men and women. And that led to people getting a little...desperate.

And _then _along comes this-this _powerful deity_, aka him: the Joker, and people realize then at that moment that in order to survive in this city…you just gotta break a few rules.

Or in _his_ case, live _completely_ without them.

So, Gordon's men soon secretly began rooting for the _other _side when Gordon's back was turned.

And they keep doing it, even _today_, despite their deity (and _savior_, mind you) being locked away.

It was just. That. Easy! And here it was, happening again. Only this time to this so-called "Master of Fear". He just didn't _see _it yet.

Crane had stood up, began walking calmly over while those eyes watched him the whole time from the bed, tongue flickering out quickly to wet _still _dry lips.

And the good doctor's smirk, for this one moment in time, transformed into a _real _smile as he lifted his hand and brought it over to clasp Joker's hand. Even though, at the moment, it was forced to remain lying there from the pressure of the restraints.

Crane lightly moves the almost completely immobile appendage into a cute mockery of a handshake while he continues to smile more, slightly baring pearly white teeth that are rarely seen.

"_This_ is going to be a _very _fun experience, I think." Jonathan proclaims.

..._What?_

"Hmm?" Joker hums questioningly, twitching his eyebrows up.

Dr. Crane pulls his hand away and hides it, along with the other, behind his back casually as he calmly stands up straight again to look down upon his new patient.

His teeth are gone behind his tightly sealed lips again, but they are still stretching upwards.

Joker is just beginning to realize that it is not _completely _a simple happy smile.

Now it's amused as well.

"Oh, I _know_ it is," Jonathan nods lightly, "because you're already trying to do that...manipulation tactic you did to thousands of others in Gotham." And then he begins chuckling quietly and shaking his head instead, "And yet you _just _woke up."

The Joker just smacks his lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's some Scarecrow and Crane one on one stuff. Hope everyone likes the yummy schizophrenic-ness. XD AND SOME LOOMING PLOT. LOOOOMING. LOOOOOMING! LOOOOO-**Okay, I'll go.. -skitters away-

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**8)**

_I believe Joker's inner fear lies in his past, his memory. This is why he cannot remember anything. And the main key/core of this is his gasglow smile. Whatever or whoever gave him them and whenever it happened is what triggered the memory loss. Over time, he's created his own memories, maybe some with fragments of truth. But it's the scars that stand out. No matter the story, it always leads to this one grand finale of cutting a "smile" on the poor young man's face._

_No matter how many years pass and how foggy his memory gets, he still has those scars._

_Perhaps some fiddling around to see some results._

_Experiment a little on if my hypothesis is correct._

_Doing something to the scars could possibly arouse irritation and discomfort in the man. And such reactions aren't a far cry from becoming fear. Just add in a dose of paranoia to whichever uncomfortable method chosen and he'd be lashing out. _

_Knowing his kind, it'd be violent and filled with misplaced rage._

_No, perhaps this shouldn't be done too soon. First start with something else, to throw him off._

_That's where Scarecrow could come in handy._

_But be sure to put a leash on him._

_A __very short__ leash._

"_You've only just begun, and you've already got a plan on how to spook him?"_ Scarecrow growled lowly. He seemed cranky. And Jon would bet on his zombie movie collection he knew why.

"Of course, why not?" Seconds later he realized he'd spoken out loud, but oh well. No one was around. He'd dismissed his men hours ago.

"_Why not?_" The other bellowed, "_Because THIS shouldn't be a time for note taking and hypothesis making. We have the _key _to ALL of Gotham's worst fears right down the hall and you just want to poke and prod at his brain! I cannot believe you._"

"Are you quite finished ranting? I hope so. I want you to save your energy for when you talk to him."

Now, Scarecrow was definitely not an easy person/personality to sway. At least... he hoped he wasn't. But ever since he'd discovered Jonathan's brilliant plan to take the goddamned Joker in as a patient, he'd been getting quite restless. But he knew it'd be hopeless to assume he could interact with such a... similar being with similar tastes without some form of backlash. Karma, after all, had been quite the unforgiving _bitch _to him. "_What's the catch, Crane._" He muttered.

Jonathan smiled in satisfaction. Ah, things were looking up for him these days. Even his own other self was bending to his will. Of course, he knew it was only because of the prospect of meeting the clown, but _that_ is what made it so perfect.

Scarecrow couldn't say no.

"I merely wish that you go and give him a little visit, possibly tomorrow, to bring him food as well. You'll be able to introduce yourself and tell him about your own separate interests in him from mine."

"_Well!_" The voice mockingly huffed in surprise, "_That sounds just peachy to me!_" He made a dramatic pause, for the hell of it, and then growled, "_I _still _don't believe you._"

This, of course, made Jon giggle, as only a schizophrenic can while having the upper hand on his other personality. "Right. Like I said, I want you to tell him about _your _interests in him. What I didn't say was _how _you should do it." The good doctor began to grin as he knew Scarecrow's utter silence meant he was highly curious. "I can give you a suggestion or two.."

And it must've hit him then and there what Jonathan _really _meant, because Scarecrow seemed to become surprised pretty fast. "_YOU'D let me.. corrupt your most precious patient? And.. so soon?_" His voice had become soft in awe.

"As long as it doesn't become _too _extreme, but still gets the point across on your.. intentions, then yes, Scarecrow. Deal?"

"_Wait. Wait, wait wait. Hold on. What_ever _could you mean by "too extreme", Jon?_"

The doctor instantly sneered, "Oh, you _know _exactly what I mean by "too extreme", you _pervert_. I most certainly do not want to come back to my body after _trusting _you with it for an hour or two, only to find myself naked and-and in the _embrace _of that madman!"

"_Okay, first of all.. "Hello, pot. Meet kettle," for that little "_madman_" bit. And secondly, Jonathan.. Seriously? The man woke up out of Arkham and strapped down to a gurney in the middle of the night. I'm pre-e-etty sure he isn't going to be up for say, a "romp in the hay", alright? Sure, I may try to woo him a bit, but I am going to be _respectful_ about it._"

Crane found himself rubbing his temples, something he tended to do at times like this. "Alright, alright. Good." He muttered, "Now I'm going to go back to my notes, if things are all settled."

"_Oh yes, don't worry _our _pretty little head about it. I'll play the _good _cop, as you wish._" Scarecrow purred.

"Excellent… _Thank_ you." Jon grounded out the last part. He was sure he'd never said that to Scarecrow before.

A few minutes into more notes though, and Scarecrow once again piped up. "_And this is going to be a.. pattern, right? I will get to talk to him more than once, yes?_"

This made Crane halt in his writing and stay suspiciously still while he answered, "Yes.. It'll continue until I move onto the next step of his treatment.."

"_Which will be?_"

"You'll see." Jonathan quickly replied.

Silence again. Long enough for Jon to realize how tired he was becoming. Just as he was starting to yawn, Scarecrow's voice popped up once again. Only his voice seemed.. softer.. hesitant.

"_I _will_ have a part in this "Next step" won't I?_"

The doctor sighed, "We'll see."

"_Oh, first it's _I'll _see, now it's _we'll _see? What could _that _possibly mean?_"

"It means I think I need to get some sleep." Jon grumbled.

"_Fine._" Scarecrow snapped moodily. But for once, Jon could care less to investigate this behavior. He closed his new notebook with all the new notes in it and left it there on his desk as he headed for bed.

For once in a long time in his professional career, things seemed to be going smoothly.

And not even Scarecrow could screw things up.


End file.
